


"You Can't Die Unless I Say So"

by helenkacan



Category: Opera, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Abandonment, Alien Culture, Alien Planet, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canadian Politics, Conflict, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Dysfunctional Family, First Kiss, First Time, Injury, M/M, Minor Character Death, Same-Sex Marriage, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:23:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1987956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenkacan/pseuds/helenkacan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <b>Tragedy Optional</b>, a multi-fandom celebration in 2008 using operas as plots.  Because the majority of operas <i>are</i> tragic, hence the clever name. Loosely (extremely) based on the opera "Romeo et Juliette" by Charles Gounod, with additional re-interpretations of the ballet by Prokofiev and the play by Shakespeare.  Updated for the 21st century and starring Dr. M. Rodney McKay as Juliette, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard as Romeo.  Loose Elizabeth Weir POV.  But I'm being very liberal with POVs, because I'm omniscient and I can.  Besides, I said so!</p>
            </blockquote>





	"You Can't Die Unless I Say So"

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline:** Takes place during MY version of S4. Dr. Carson Beckett is Chief of Medicine. Dr. Jennifer Keller is his 2IC and on duty when he isn't – she replaced him temporarily when he was recovering from partial exposure to the genetic tumour bomb blast in _Sunday_. Dr. Elizabeth Weir's injuries were life threatening but she survived and recovered from the brain injury without the nanites. Teyla Emmagan is not pregnant. The Athosians are just ... missing. Kanaan who? Michael Kenmore isn't a threat. Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex can be just friends ... or more. Col. Samantha Carter is off exploring the universe with SG1. Oh, and Dr. Peter Kavanagh is a weasel and a moron. See, hardly _any_ changes at all!

Prologue

Dr. Elizabeth Weir surveyed her domain with a calm confidence. The Control Room was the key to the city of Atlantis. And, though the activity there could never be called _calm_ , she noticed that everyone was moving with a purpose, but without any worrying frantic overtones. Sgt Campbell was in the middle of it all, as unflappable as ever. Though she'd been surprised to learn of (and had immediately overlooked) Chuck's hot betting service. It wasn't legal but these were grown up boys and girls; she trusted them to behave as adults. So, if she didn't acknowledge it and it didn't hurt anyone, she didn't worry.

Now that was an unusual concept: not worrying. Even Rodney McKay was waving his arms below her at a velocity slightly less than Mach1. For Rodney, that was practically a boring day. If Rodney could do bored, then so could she. She idly browsed through her files on her computer and opened the one for the Halloween Masquerade Party that was being planned for the evening equivalent to October 31st back on Earth. Even though the city had not even been settled on the ocean of New Lantea for an entire year, for familiarity the expedition still maintained a conversion calendar, to facilitate remembering special holidays, birthdays and anniversaries.

Elizabeth was extremely proud of everyone in the city, for getting through every emergency (even though she'd been in a coma for many months) with grace under pressure. They deserved to have a big party and she was proud that she'd suggested it. Between the marines, the botanists and scientists, she knew the construction of the Pavilion on the East Pier would be spectacular. She'd been worried originally that people would feel cheated by their limited options for costumes. She needn't have been concerned.

From the contacts secured through Ronon and especially Teyla, they'd found some spectacular resources for fabrics, semi-precious gems and light-weight metals that could be used to fabricate almost anything each person wanted. As currency, each resident of the city had used the barter system. So there hadn't even been a drain on the city's economy or to their regularly scheduled supply run. And they'd done a lot of good in furthering a reduction in their outsider status among the many worlds of this galaxy.

Elizabeth looked up to see John Sheppard leaning against her door.

"Hey, Elizabeth, do you have a moment?"

She smiled. "Well, as I'm just looking at the party plans, now's a good time."

After slinging his frame onto a chair, he outlined the problem that wasn't _really_ a problem. It was simply that the hierarchy of Nestur insisted that initial negotiations for trade be conducted by each world's highest authority. The premiere gate team wouldn't cut it. Elizabeth would have to visit Nestur personally. Well, that is if Atlantis wanted to feast on plentiful supplies of not-chicken and, even better for the holidays, not-turkey.

She sighed, but wasn't really troubled. She'd wanted to go off-world but hadn't had an opportunity until now. With the peace and quiet, this was the perfect time.

Act One

Elizabeth could sense that something was wrong as soon as they had gated back into the city. _Only three days._ And this was what she'd come home to. Chuck was on duty; Major Lorne was also present, but a whole squad of marines had shown up as they'd walked through.

Major Lorne addressed them. "Sorry, Ma'am, but we've had a serious incident with an away team. The marines are here to escort you to your quarters because of the curfew. Strictly for your safety."

Rodney's reaction was typical. "Of all the boneheaded decisions. Who's the moron who put these rules in place?" Rodney was ignoring John's efforts to shut him up.

The Major looked ashamed but admitted, "That moron would be me. Sorry, Dr. McKay, but we had to get people to calm down to prevent anybody else getting injured."

John mock-whispered to his teammate and usual royal pain in the ass, "Rodney, I'm sure we'll get things straightened out in the morning. In the meantime, I just want to go to bed, preferably five minutes ago. We should all do that and get a fresh perspective in the morning, say 0700 in Elizabeth's office."

Rodney nodded, though that didn't stop him from grumbling under his breath the entire time. The others were either too stunned or too tired to make any comment.

The next morning, when the members of the trip to Nestur stepped outside their quarters, they were each greeted by a pair of marines. In each case, the answer was perfunctory. "We're here to escort you to your meeting with Major Lorne. He'll explain the nature of the emergency."

Thankfully, Major Lorne had set out a few pots of coffee of which Rodney commandeered one just for himself, glaring at anyone to dare to defy him. There were also bagels, fruit and cheese so that nobody would go hungry. Well, with the probable exception of Ronon.

Evan turned to Elizabeth on his right. "Sorry I had to commandeer your office like this, Dr. Weir, but it was necessary at the time."

Elizabeth shrugged. She didn't have any information on which to base any conclusions. "Why don't you just tell us what happened?"

Half an hour later, even Rodney was too shocked to do anything but open his mouth and then close it. He was not accustomed to being speechless. Ronon was not reacting visibly, though Teyla looked very upset. Elizabeth looked sad, but nothing seemed as threatening as the storm clouds brewing in John's eyes.

Evan had given them all of the facts. One person dead – the 2IC of Major Lacroix's new team. With Brauten's long hair fanned out on her pillow in the infirmary after she'd been pronounced dead, she'd looked little older than a child. The Major was in a coma, prognosis uncertain. The third member, also military, was in shock and sedated. But Evan had made sure to get his statement before admitting him into the care of the doctors.

And the fourth was currently in the brig. One Dr. Peter Kavanagh.

When Rodney heard the name, he finally exploded. "Just what the hell was Kavanagh doing on a gate team?"

Evan tried to be patient as he explained. "It appears that he waited until all of you, especially Dr. Weir, had left. Then he got on Major Lacroix's ass – beg pardon, Ma'am, Teyla – and made himself get included on the Major's first mission. Details are a little sketchy after that. But Wilkins said that Dr. Kavanagh had interfered and got them all in danger. When they came in hot, the most important thing was to get them to the infirmary. That's the first place a fight broke out, between Wilkins and Kavanagh. Based on what Wilkins said, I had to segregate them, so Wilkins is under medical quarantine in his quarters and Kavanagh - I had no choice but to put him in the brig."

The Major grasped his coffee and took a deep gulp, as if to fortify himself against even more trouble to come. "I hoped the incident in the Infirmary had been kept quiet, but the news got out and people took it upon themselves to act out in retaliation for the casualties. With more people showing up in the Infirmary with minor aches and scrapes, mostly black eyes, scratches and busted knuckles, I had to get everybody to calm down. So, first, I put a curfew into effect. With the exception of work and eating, no wandering in the hallways or unauthorised gatherings. Secondly, I had to get both sides to cool down, so no fraternisation between the military and civilian populations. With a couple of exceptions. The Infirmary is open to everybody. But the Mess is operating on a strictly separate schedule. Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner – first hour military, second hour civilian. Off limits at any other time. If you're hungry in the middle of the night, you make sure you have a supply of MREs and power bars in your quarters. And the gym is open for 16 hours a day, in alternating four-hour shifts.

Rodney appeared to be on the verge of tears. No immediate access to food. Or his best friend. He didn't know which was the greatest deprivation. He raised his left hand, fingers nearly frozen in place. "So, what's to prevent somebody in the Mess from poisoning me with citrus?"

Evan looked across at Rodney and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Already anticipated that problem. Military staff serving the military, civilian staff serving civilians."

Rodney shuddered when he heard the solution. He had to hope that nobody would lie to him about a dish that could kill him.

Evan swivelled from one side to the other, making sure he had both Elizabeth's and John's attention. "I've made a full report in private to both of you – you, too, Dr. McKay – but it hasn't spread beyond the city."

He was interrupted by a caustic, "Only because the potential snitch is in the brig," from Rodney.

Elizabeth fixed Rodney with a stern look, but his was defiant in return. "What! You all know what he's like."

"Thank you, Major. Your explanation gives us a little more to work with. In your opinion, when would you recommend the curfew be lifted and freedom of association restored?"

"I know I'm not the one in charge, but I think it's too soon to return to business as usual. You weren't here. You didn't see the way people were lashing out. Others getting caught in the middle."

Elizabeth wasn't buying the argument. "But surely the senior staff are exempt from the segregation?"

Evan shook his head slowly. "I wouldn't recommend it, Ma'am. People would think we have divided loyalties and then we'd have an even harder time keeping them in line. Or getting them to trust us."

John hadn't yet said a word, but had to ask, "Can we all stay in touch on our radios?"

"Sorry, Sir, but no contact at all. Unless it's on the emergency frequency. For, um, real emergencies."

Elizabeth's exasperation was showing on her face. "So how am I – are we – supposed to run the city?"

Evan shrugged. "Was wondering about that myself. Maybe regular senior staff meetings like this one in your office."

Elizabeth's lips were forming an unattractive straight, tense line. "What about the Halloween party less than two weeks away. Everybody was looking forward to it. Should we cancel it?"

John raised his head. "What about--?" He couldn't finish the rest of his question.

Rodney did the fiddly snapping thing with his fingers, the first sign of animation since he'd grabbed a coffee pot. "Two parties! That's the answer. On opposite piers, so there's no mixing between civilians and military."

Elizabeth looked doubtful. "But the duplication will be so wasteful. I don't know."

Teyla had been quiet until now. "All of our people need the recreation. If the party is cancelled, there may be even more hurt feelings. I believe Rodney has come up with the only logical solution, though the joy of the event will be much less."

Elizabeth looked out at the faces around her, seeking her agreement. Years of diplomatic negotiation had taught her that sometimes you had to wait for the organic opportunity to correct a problem. Major Lorne was right. It was too soon to expect all signs of rivalry and antagonism to simply disappear. "Alright. Two parties. Curfew to be lifted for one night only. Anything else?"

Ronon's voice startled everyone. "Wondering where Teyla and I fit in. Not exactly military, but not civilians. 'Sides, you need us," he continued, looking directly at John, "in the fight against the Wraith. Replicators. Whatever."

John smacked his hand against his forehead. He needed this like another hole in the head. He turned to Elizabeth with desperation in his eyes. "I need them on my team. _Atlantis_ needs them." He glanced over at Rodney and saw the despair flash through his eyes, realising how alone and abandoned Rodney must be feeling right now. He mouthed, "Sorry, buddy," at Rodney, but that only earned him a generic pissed-off reaction as Rodney folded his arms, refusing to meet his eyes.

Elizabeth spoke again. "Teyla, Ronon, would you feel comfortable remaining on the team with John?" She watched Ronon shrug his shoulders and Teyla incline her head slightly. She knew that neither of them was pleased with the enforced and arbitrary segregation. "Fine. Is there anything else?" She glanced at everyone. Rodney was a closed-off wall. Teyla and Ronon resigned. Evan drooping from exhaustion, probably not having slept more than an hour or two during the emergency. "John?"

He hated this, hated to have to go all proper military. "I think we may have a problem with drinking at the parties. Maybe check at the entrance that nobody's smuggling any. Serve an alcoholic punch where you'd have to drink gallons just to get a buzz."

Teyla added, "I have some ingredients we could add to it, mildly medicinal herbs that promote relaxation and do not leave the drinker exposed to feelings of oppression or paranoia."

Rodney glared at her. "Not citrus?"

Teyla smiled at Rodney. "No, just a hint of berries ... I think you call it cranberry."

Elizabeth let out a sigh. Had she ever expected that leading the expedition would entail acting as a chaperone to hundreds of otherwise grown up people. But she was realistic to expect that the atmosphere at both parties would not be as light and joyous as originally intended. She was also aware that there were friendships and relationships that had been temporarily curtailed, splitting couples between two separate parties. When people were morose, they drank. The last thing the city needed was to have people who were unhappy, frustrated _and_ drunk.

"Thank you both for excellent suggestions. Now, I believe we have reports to read, so that we know exactly what's happening. I think we should reduce our senior staff meetings to every other day, conserving any duplication of effort. Unless there's another emergency. Major, thank you once again for doing your utmost to control the situation."

Evan lifted his drooping eyes. "Just doing my job, Ma'am. Colonel."

John turned to his 2IC. "Major, I'm relieving you of duty for the next 24 hours. I hope I don't need to order you to sleep."

Evan almost jumped up. "Yes, Sir. No, Sir."

It was almost enough to bring a smile to John's lips. But this was no smiling matter. Being without an important, vital, _integral_ member of his team. The absence of motor-mouth Rodney was impossible to imagine. The only time when Rodney was absent was when he'd been injured, when he'd surprised John by just how brave he really was. They looked after each other's six. And shared a tent or a room overnight, even their sleeping bags zipped up together on a really cold world.

Suddenly, John understood with a new clarity why Rodney looked so rejected. No movie nights with Rodney. No comic book sharing. No geeky banter – now that really hurt. No walking into each other's quarters, understanding that the other was always available. No spending time together playing video games, lazy chess or just breathing the same air. John was stunned. He'd never realised just how much time he and Rodney spent together. He wanted to turn to Rodney to say as much and had to stop himself.

John watched as everybody left in silence. There was no marine guard escort: they'd all been briefed. When John reached his office, he sank down onto his chair and buried his head in his hands. Then, with a groan, he turned to his computer and called up the relevant files. It was going to be a long day of reading.

Rodney had stomped all the way back to his quarters. He didn't even feel like torturing any minions. Anyway, Radek had been in charge for three days. Another day wouldn't make any difference. And any putative God had better help Kavanagh because Rodney knew exactly what he'd do if he saw him.

But first, coffee. And more food. He dragged out his personal coffee machine and hidden bean stash. For emergencies only. Definitely an emergency. Fifteen minutes later, he was inhaling the soothing yet stimulating aroma. When he took a good look around, he noticed neat stacks of power bars and MREs with relief. The last place he wanted to visit today was the Mess. Without his friends. Without ... Sheppard. Sheppard. The traitor. Even though it wasn't really his fault.

Ripping open a power bar wrapper, Rodney opened his favourite laptop. He was about to click on Lorne's folder when the flashing icon caught his eye. He had a super-personal, private e-mail account set up with only two people. It couldn't be John. They'd just returned from the meeting. Besides, no communication meant _no_ communication. That could only mean ....

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

FUCK!

How could she? It wasn't enough that Jeannie questioned, provoked and belittled her brother on a constant basis, now she was TAKING OVER HIS LIFE!

After the whole nanite situation ... and, hello, wasn't the Prius enough of a peace offering ... she was now demanding that her brother marry Dr. Katie Brown immediately and she, Jeannie, was booked to arrive on the next run of the Daedalus, proxy marriage licence in hand. Rodney didn't know whether he'd ever felt more helpless – even when trapped in a sunken 'jumper. Besides, that had only been his life. This was ... this was ... Hell!

Rodney knew he was not strong enough to stand up to his sister. If she could get the SGC to allow her to displace precious cargo for a seemingly frivolous family matter, he was facing his doom. He imagined she'd probably left the clerk at City Hall in tears.

Rodney scanned the e-mail from Hell again. He had to admire her logic, but not the execution. Execution was right. His life was over. She mentioned that she and Kaleb had recently rewritten their wills. Because she was now more aware that she might not live to see her daughter grow up, she'd wanted to secure her guardianship. She was willing to entrust Maddy to her brother's care, but only if Rodney was married. Apparently the fact that Rodney wasn't married did not slow her down. She'd just _make sure_ he was married.

Rodney groaned in frustration. And then had a minor panic attack. What if she'd also e-mailed Katie? He was so doomed. He hoped she hadn't and was waiting until she arrived to browbeat the poor woman into saying yes. Could there be any greater humiliation? Well, other than being caught in plagiary? Or seeing someone else walking off with the Nobel that he deserved. Besides, he wasn't ready to be married. Hadn't he already proved that with Katie? Unless ... but he couldn't go there, couldn't think of things that weren't to be.

Rodney didn't even have the time for a good sulk. He had to read over Lorne's report. Then probably go insult Zelenka and browbeat his minions. Normal things. Rodney's frown deepend as he started to read, occasionally yelling in disgust at his screen. Normal reactions.

~::~

In the two weeks leading up to the parties, life fell back into a more regular routine. Even the senior staff meetings were conducted almost by rote. The only variables were whether Carson or Jennifer would be able to attend.

John was listless when he attended. Initially, he'd always start by seeking out Rodney's gaze, trying to tell him in a glance that he missed him so much. But even that gesture hurt too much, reminded him of what he was missing on every away mission. He'd rejected Evan's proposal to grab a fourth from the Marine pool because Rodney would always be the only fourth member of his team. At night, he missed the pre-sleep grumbles, the shnuffly breathng and the expected grumpiness the next morning. God, he even missed the yapping. At 200 miles a minute, minimum.

The divided forces continued with preparations for the parties. The Marines were conscripted into constructing scaffolding and a huge tarp, just in case of rain. The scientists had created a floating roof. Where the botanists could decorate with branches and flowers they'd cultivated, the Marines went wandering through fields on other worlds, using the most allergic soldiers as human canaries. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than having an undecorated space. Besides, there was pride at stake.

John continued to work on his costume, even though his heart wasn't in it. He'd been so excited initially, just imagining the look on Rodney's face. And now Rodney wouldn't even get a chance to see it. Unless .... Elizabeth had said she'd be attending the Military party from 8 till 10, then the Civilian party until midnight. He could easily do the first two hours with his people, then pretend a headache and sneak into the other party. After all, only Rodney would guess his identity immediately. His mood brightened.

~::~

It was finally the night of the party. Elizabeth stared at her image in the mirror. Of course, everyone except for Ronon and Teyla would know who she was in history. Elaborate wig, white makeup, crown and elegantly ruffed dress, these were the hallmarks of a woman who had certainly been a strong ruler in a sea of men. It seemed most appropriate.

Elizabeth had already decided that she had to be the first person at the party, acting as its host. She wasn't surprised to see a tall figure already waiting for her in front of the security barrier.

"John?" She wasn't entirely sure, as only his mouth was fully uncovered; his eyes were darker than normal.

"You look fantastic, Elizabeth. Very queeny." His lips quirked up in the memory of a smile.

But Elizabeth knew he was making every effort to try to have a good time at his own party. Not the best, just good.

They remained at the barrier, smoothing away the awkwardness the designated bouncers were causing by searching for alcohol. In all, Elizabeth was both suprised and pleased by the efforts of all in making up a costume. Any costume. Nobody fell back on the easy way out by wearing their own uniform. Not that there weren't uniforms present. The most popular seemed to be medical. Elizabeth was sure she saw a House lookalike in a lab coat, down to the cane and limp (not acting, just sustained during a recent mission). There were a couple of clicheed sexy nurses, but Elizabeth knew these women could handle any unwelcome attention. A couple of chefs who weren't known for anything other than eating. And, she giggled, a great number of cartoon or animal characters. She had no idea who the burly man was under the Tweety-Pie outfit. Until she saw the adorable Errol Flynnish Teyla as Robin Hood dancing with the big bird. There were also traditional classic favourites. Pirate, cop, lawyer. And those were just the women.

Elizabeth realised that Rodney and Teyla had been right. She had no idea how the other party was going, but not cancelling had been the only thing to do. She couldn't believe how quickly the time flew by. She'd had a few nibbles, a couple of glasses of the delicious but innocuous punch, enjoyed a couple of dances. As she was saying her goodbyes, John was by her side again, claiming a headache. He threw out a few goodnights before leaving Evan in charge.

Elizabeth slipped into one of the designated powder rooms. Period makeup was very convincing, but needed to be reapplied. She made sure her powder and lipstick were perfect again before crossing over to the opposite Pier. She could hear the loud music before she reached the entrance which had been created by a curved bridge over a rippling pool. As far as she could tell, the pool was most likely a hologram. She was impressed by the fluffy, floating roof and other scientific marvels. But, then again, these people were geniuses. It wasn't only Rodney, Rodney, Rodney. Speaking of whom, where was the resident super genius?

Elizabeth looked around the space, casually noting which of the civilians she could recognise. Some were easy: Carson in full highland regalia; Miko in a kimono. Others who didn't provide any clues. There were a couple of robots. Darth Vader dancing with a ... stormtrooper? Well, these were civilians and probably not having to worry about any scrutiny and reprisals from the military had loosened their inhibitions a bit. There were more examples of same-sex couples. She giggled when she saw a Canadian hockey player dancing with a USA one. They were showing much more camaraderie than their real-life counterparts. And Einstein, or Zelenka with lovely greyed teased hair, had an arm around both Hansel's and Gretel's waists. She wondered why she didn't find the image strange. She began to circulate among the couples and groups of people. Several asked her, a little wistfully she felt, how the other party was.

Still no Rodney. Well, not one she could recognise. Until her eyes fell on the unmistakable figure of the chief scientist. The boots, breeches, jacket and hat were simply perfect. The pose of the hand priceless. Even if he were too tall to recreate the role historically, Rodney was an autocratic emperor in every other facet. But what Elizabeth had not expected was to see Rodney's arms wrap around and cling to the figure in front of him, his face buried. In John's chest.

Elizabeth was disturbed. Not because it was two men, but because John was breaking the rules keeping the two parties separate. The longer she looked, the more conflicted she became. _Outing_ \- and there was an ironic term – John in the middle of a party that had already been going on for two hours would not be a wise move. His costume covered his entire body, exposing only those lips. And the lighting was dim. She could handle this as a private disciplinary matter. In the morning.

The more she looked, the less she was surprised. After all, these two men had been perfect strangers and would have never met except for fate. To move through to teammates, best friends and, now, something apparently more serious was almost to be expected. They spent _all_ their free time together, it seemed to her. If that weren't an indicator of a _couple_ if not in love then at least very attuned to each other, Elizabeth didn't know what was.

Before Elizabeth had a chance to embarrass herself, she finally looked away. She couldn't wait for the party to be over, to be back in her quarters. There was something she needed to check out.

Rodney and John were oblivious to everyone around them. When Rodney had first seen John coming in shortly after 10, his eyes had lit up and a hopeful smile graced his face. He'd watched as John stalked from person to person, trying to find and identify _him_ until at last he was standing in front of him. Rodney looked up and down the impressive figure. His mouth formed an expressive O and he whispered, "For me?"

John nodded. "Only for you, Rodney."

Rodney was having a difficult time expressing his personality. Emperors didn't go around snapping their fingers, but he still did. "Keaton, right?"

John nodded again. "Nobody else."

Rodney appeared to have found greater significance in those two words, as he suddenly threw his arms around John and mashed his face into the rubber-clad chest. He didn't give a damn if it meshed with appropriate behaviour for an emperor. As Rodney had already been the recipient of enough fawning or sniggers during the first two hours of the party, he felt entitled to spend the last two however he wanted to.

Rodney finally moved his head away from John's torso, but stayed close to him. They walked over to a quiet table for two at the end of the pier, hoping they could talk undisturbed.

The next time Elizabeth spotted Rodney, he was circulating among the others. John was nowhere to be seen which was a wise move on his part. He was probably on his way back to his quarters, hoping nobody from either party would spot him. Elizabeth stayed until the stroke of 12, said her goodnights and left. Now she had work to do. Many decisions to make.

Act Two

Rodney was back in his quarters, but still in his costume. He didn't want to remove it. Wanted to keep the memories of his unusual reunion with the Colonel uppermost in his mind. He still couldn't believe that John had gone to all that trouble to impress him. And he had been ... impressive. The moulded rubber, or Pegasus Galaxy not-rubber, had encased his limbs to perfection.

Rodney wandered out onto his balcony. He stared at the two moons, wondering at what was happening to him. He'd always disdained typically romantic meaning gestures. Two moons hanging over the ocean were something you charted on a graph. You didn't look out at them with longing ... well, not if you were Dr. M. Rodney McKay, PhD, PhD. Not to forget Nobel pending. But Rodney was getting one revelation after another. He wished that John could be here, their arms around each other, because he l- .... He was startled out of his scary train of thought with the sound of a grappling hook hitting the wall. When it fell back to the ground, he heard a voice, recognisable, and an expletive he understood very well.

Rodney moved away from the wall, waiting for the next attempt. This time the hook sailed over the edge and found a secure purchase. Rodney held his breath while he waited for the person at the other end of the rope to start climbing up. A few minutes later, long legs were straddling the balcony's edge and John was on solid ground again.

John bent his head, as if suddenly shy. "Hey, Rodney."

Rodney exploded. "Of all the moronic, idiotic, and I do mean non-Mensa idiotic, stupid-hair brained ideas ...."

John put one hand out. "Whoa, buddy. It worked, didn't it? A lot easier than the last time."

Rodney was shamed into silence. He didn't want to remember that day. Not the lying down on the floor, waiting to die part. Or yelling at John, Radek too, when he'd learned about their crazy physical heroics. Rodney stared at the floor. "I just don't want to lose you. You can't die unless I say so."

John chuckled. "Never?"

Rodney growled. "It's not funny."

"No, Rodney, it never is."

Rodney looked at him for a long time until John began to fidget. "Did I mention how hot you look in that?"

"It was worth it then. I've got baby powder everywhere. I mean ... _everywhere_!

Now it was Rodney's turn to fidget. "Um, can I say I think that's hot, too?"

John laughed. "You wouldn't say so if you had to try to get out of it later. Or ... maybe you would." He gave Rodney a long, appraising look. "Is this," and he waved his hand between the two of them, "something you ever thought about?"

"What!" Rodney sputtered. "No ... um, maybe? I just liked the hanging out together parts. More than I liked it with anybody else." He struck the side of his head with his palm. "No wonder I couldn't go through with proposing to Katie." Then Rodney looked up at John with stricken eyes. "Fuck! I forgot with all the chaos in the city, Jeannie's on her way on the Daedalus with a marriage licence. She's going to force me to marry Katie."

"She can't do that. Can she?"

"It's Jeannie. You know what she's like."

John had to agree. "We're doomed."

"What do you mean ... _we_?"

"You don't think I wouldn't marry you in a heartbeat, if I could."

Rodney was skeptical. "Really? You really would? So, this-" and he waved his hand between them.

John finished the sentence, "Is nothing new to me. Just something I've tried to hide, pretend it didn't exist. Tried to force it out of me by marrying Nancy." He shrugged. "You know how that ended up. I kept so many secrets from her, but she found out about this one. And, then, she didn't want to know any more secrets. Huh." Rodney's mouth was formed into that lovely O-shape and John tried not to think of what that mouth could do on another part of his anatomy. Because not-rubber didn't leave room for _any_ expansion.

Rodney's wits were about him, even if his own thoughts were wandering. "Maybe Elizabeth can do something. I don't know what – but that's why she's in charge. I'll talk to her in the morning."

"Tell her I'm sorry."

"What? Why?"

"I was at your party. She saw us together."

"Oh ... but she didn't do anything. Did she?"

"Lizzie's smart. She wouldn't want to cause a disturbance."

"Okay, sure. Right. John, I ...."

"Me too."

And then they were in each other's arms, mouths smashed together. Four years of friendship, longing, misunderstanding, jealousy, competitiveness all distilled into one kiss. It wasn't pretty, seeing each man unleashing his possessive nature. But it was who they were, even through the many anachronistic layers of their costumes. Without separating, their bodies slumped down to the ground. One of Rodney's hands was sliding down John's thigh, the other cradled his cheek softly. John's rubber gloved fingers slid through Rodney's hair and grasped the back of his head.

When they released each other, Rodney was gasping. "Sorry, clothes too tight."

As sweat was painting John's face, he had to agree. "Yeah. Maybe next time, not so much clothing." 

Rodney's answering moan meant everything to him. "Listen, buddy, I've got to go. Talk to Lizzie. Maybe you can get a message to me through Carson. You know, neutral territory." John watched Rodney nod before a familiar pout slid into place. "Don't worry. We'll figure this out." He slid his lips gently over that expressive pout, let out a sigh, before rising and climbing over the side of the balcony. 

Rodney rose to watch the maniac he apparently loved climb down the wall until he reached the bottom. John looked up and tossed him a jaunty salute. Rodney just shook his head before he drew up the rope, a souvenir of the evening.

Act Three

Rodney was surprised when he was summoned by Elizabeth in the morning. But not to meet her in her office, but in the Infirmary. She told him that Carson was expecting him. Rodney didn't understand why, but he wasn't about to waste valuable time arguing. Definitely a first.

Carson met him and ushered him into an isolation room. There was one other person there already, wearing scrubs and lying on an examination bed. The familiar figure lifted his head and drawled, "Morning, Rodney."

Both men watched Rodney sputter, speechless. Then a brilliant smile lit up his face.

Carson's words broke through the haze surrounding Rodney's head. "I'll give ye ten minutes before I return with Dr. Weir. We're not sure, but there's concern about a possible outbreak of an unknown nature. Please don't leave the room."

When Carson had left, John jumped off the table. The two men held each other, not even kissing.

Still, Rodney was curious. "How'd you get here?"

"Lizzie summoned me about an hour ago. She said she had something to ask both of us. So, I'm playing along."

"Okay, sure. Fine. She summoned me, too. Now, we have 8.5 minutes left. Can we get on to the kissing? Please?"

John wasn't used to hearing Rodney asking politely? He hadn't even snapped his fingers.

The next 8.5 minutes, or perhaps even ten, were spent in a perfectly valid experiment, one that combined tension, torque and lubrication. Even teeth. Definitely tongue.

The experiment was interrupted by a surprised cough and a nervous giggle. Elizabeth, Carson. And Jennifer, who was still trying not to giggle any more.

Elizabeth was the first to speak. "Could we all sit down, please." She tried not to be too surprised when the two men hopped up on the table so they could sit with their shoulders and thighs pressed together. Still, they weren't making out, so that had to count for something.

Carson dragged over two chairs for the women, then a third for himself.

She continued. "We have three problems, but I believe I have a solution that will solve two of them and ease the third one. Rodney, your sister will be here in a couple of days. Jeannie sent me an e-mail." She stopped and watched as John and Rodney reacted.

When Rodney started shaking his head back and forth, John put an arm around his shoulders. "That conniving bitch. Sorry. I know she's my sister, but I think she inherited my mother's personality. Under the granola veneer, she's got a titanium core."

As both Carson and Jennifer looked shocked at Rodney's outburst, Elizabeth turned to them. "To put it simply, Mrs. Miller and her husband changed their wills. Rodney will become their daughter's guardian but only if he's married. So she is on her way to make sure he gets married."

Jennifer looked curious. "So who's the lucky bride?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Jeannie thinks it's supposed to be Dr. Brown."

Jennifer looked over at Rodney with kind eyes. "Oh, Rodney. I'm so sorry."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure everybody's sorry. But how am I going to get out of this mess?"

Elizabeth took the reins back in her hand. "I'm so pleased you asked. I've been up half the night investigating how to get you out of your predicament, but still comply with your sister's terms." She looked out on uncomprehending stares. "Rodney, do you love John?"

"Yes, but-"

"John, do you love Rodney?"

John's hamster must have been running very hard on its little wheel. "Why?"

"Are you willing to marry him?"

John ignored Rodney's flailing arms that threatened to knock him off the table. "I would if I could. But I can't."

Elizabeth's mouth turned up in a smile full of mischief. "Oh, I think you can." She then stood and carried over a silver briefcase and laid it on the table the two men were still sitting on. Both men stared, then gulped. This was her official _diplomatic_ case, the one that only she was authorised to open. Out came a number of impressive looking documents. "First, John, you sign your resignation papers from the USAF. That way you've protected your pension. They can't take it away from you retroactively, regardless of DADT. Second, you accept this Canadian passport which I have been authorised to present since the first day we stepped through to this galaxy. Third, I have a commission from the Canadian Armed Forces, bestowing upon you the rank of full Colonel. Actually, my contact in Ottawa was very impressed when he learned how valuable you are to the expedition. He said the Canadian government would be too stupid, even for bureaucrats, not to want you as the head of the military here. And, of course, there's no problem with your being married to Rodney, as military same-sex weddings have been happening on Canadian bases since 2005. Mind you, I think you will eventually have to learn to speak French to comply with officer requirements. Fourth, I've prepared your marriage licence. I hope you don't mind, Rodney, but it's for registration in Ontario, because of the Colonel's new military status. And, fifth, I have the power to marry you two right now and have asked Carson and Jennifer to act as your witnesses."

Rodney and John looked at each other, too stunned to say anything. But that didn't last long.

"How, who? How?" Rodney couldn't even form a proper question.

Elizabeth took pity on him. "How was I able to do any of this? Who gave me the authority? Is that what you want to know."

She watched Rodney nod his head several times in eagerness.

"Well, when we were getting ready to go to Atlantis, I tried to envision every single eventuality, based on the premise that we could not come back to Earth. People would die. I knew that. I also knew that people would fall in love – as none of us had anyone back on Earth." Elizabeth paused and frowned, thinking of her missed ... no, Simon's missed ... opportunity. "And people still like to get married. As I also had the recognised credentials of a JP, I could perform weddings. Register births, all that. And, sometimes, with marriage, people take on new national identities. So, from every single nation participating I received a diplomatic pouch containing passports."

John cut in. "But, Elizabeth, we've re-established communications with Earth."

"Of course, I know we did. But I never revoked any of my additional powers. Nobody could strip me of them; I'd have to do it myself. I didn't. I just didn't remind anybody that I hadn't. Certainly not the IOA. There are times when being underestimated because I'm a woman is advantageous to me."

Rodney's voice interrupted her. "But, but, that's sneaky ... and brilliant!"

"Thank you, Rodney. And it's what's going to save your skin in this mess. I think it will also bring the division of the city to an end. Can you imagine – well, after the confrontation with your sister – how the city will react if we have a huge party to really celebrate your wedding in style?" She sighed, in pleasant anticipation.

Carson's voice dragged her back to reality. "Elizabeth, the lads aren't married yet. They didn't say aye."

The two _lads_ in question looked at each other. John's raised eyebrow was met without hesitation by an emphatic nod from Rodney.

Elizabeth laughed. "I think they just did, Carson."

Rodney's impatience got the better of him. "Can we get married, already?"

John's innocent, "What's the hurry," was met by more laughter as Rodney turned to him, a hand on his hip. Rodney continued to stare until John grew flustered. "Oh, yeah. Right. So ... married?"

The two remained seated on the table as Elizabeth moved in front of them. Carson stood next to John and Jennifer next to Rodney. She reached out and squeezed his hand for luck.

Elizabeth began the traditional ceremony. As traditional as it could be in the Pegasus Galaxy, between two men, in an isolation room. Even through all of the strange vibes, she couldn't help but know to her core that what she was doing was something monumental in scope. At the point during the ceremony when the couple and witnesses would sign the forms, she watched as John first signed the extra forms releasing him from his ties to his country of birth, of service and of shame. Rodney kept a reassuring hand on John's shoulder.

The atmosphere seemed lighter when both men signed the official marriage document. Multiple times. Unfortunately, there were no rings, but they improvised with bands of medical tape that Jennifer had suggested.

And then the long-awaited words, "By the powers vested in me ...." Elizabeth didn't think either man heard anything else, because they had already turned to each other and were kissing, John's hands cradling Rodney's face, Rodney's hands clutching at John's scrubs that wouldn't last long under Rodney's persistent fingers.

The officiant and witnesses edged away from the table. There were individual words that hung in the air

"We'll be ...."

"... going."

"Anything ye need ... by the door."

"We'll deliver lunch."

"Later."

"Aye."

"Much ...."

"... later."

Neither man heard the click of a lock, giving them the privacy they needed.

Many moments later, after scrabbling fingers had been pulling off pieces of clothing, John was already naked, but had only managed to pull off Rodney's shirt. John lifted his mouth away from Rodney's. "Stop. Wait a minute."

Rodney's lips were red and swollen. "What? What's wrong?"

"We need to be able to lie down. This bed's too high." John dragged Rodney off the bed.

Rodney hummed as he inspected the bottom edge. "Aha!" He pressed a button and saw the legs retract into the underside as the bed sank gently down to the floor. Rodney turned back, appraising the body next to him. "Your ass is so mine." He was fascinated to see John's already hard cock twitch. He reached out to touch it but was startled when John slapped his hand away.

"No way. No touching the merch until you get your clothes off."

Rodney's hand stuttered but redirected itself to doing as John ordered. He leaned over to remove his boots and socks and let out a yelp as two broad hands caressed his butt. "Hey, Colonel! That goes both ways."

"Well, hurry up, then." John had sat down on the bed, so he could get a closer look at what had piqued his interest.

"I. Am. Hurrying. Up." Each word was punctuated by a tug on a piece of clothing, until Rodney was just as naked as John.

John reached out and grabbed Rodney's hips, pulling him down onto the bed with a bouncing "Oomph" from Rodney. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. Does this feel weird?" Rodney looked down at their joined hands.

"What – holding hands, getting married, being naked – what?"

"Um, all of it?"

"No. What feels weird is holding hands, being married and naked with you ... and not doing anything else."

"Oh. Okay. How about-" and Rodney pushed against John's shoulders until he was lying down before he slid inbetween John's legs. "Better?"

The mingled, throbbing heat trapped between their bodies got John's attention and the next 8 or 10 or 12 minutes were spent in another competely valid experiment involving friction, the application thereof between two bodies in motion. The experiment was considered to have been a success, having reached its desired conclusion.

Rodney was gasping for air. "Wow. That was-"

"Just getting started. Give me a few minutes, then we can see what goodies Carson left us."

The hours seemed to flow by too quickly. They'd plundered the container of supplies, with Rodney giggling when he picked up something unfamiliar. He dangled it in front of John who responded with a growl. "We can play with it next time."

Rodney beamed. Next time sounded good.

Lunch had been delivered following a knock from a red-faced Carson. He also handed John his uniform and radio. "Sorry, Colonel, but we're going to have to send you back into the real world in a couple of hours. Elizabeth said something about a mission."

Then Carson was gone and the door locked again.

John carried the picnic basket over to Rodney who reached in impatiently. Somebody or several somebodies had gone to special effort to put together a picnic lunch for them: turkey sandwiches, european potato salad with oil and not evil citrus mayo, chocolate cake, sparkling cider and a carafe of coffee. Rodney poured himself a cup of heaven, while John started munching on a sandwich.

When they'd gorged themselves on food, they lay back on the bed. There were no other frictional or other experiments conducted. Well, perhaps one. John trailed his fingers over various parts of Rodney's body and waited for the resulting squak of protest or purr of contentment. So far there were many purrs for each squak.

"Listen, Rodney ...."

"Right. I know. You've got to go. I should drop in by the labs, too; see if there's anything they haven't blown up yet." Rodney looked down at the ring on his finger and twisted it. He looked sad, resigned.

"Don't worry, Rodney. We'll get rings. I promise. How about from that gem planet?"

Rodney nodded. He grabbed John's hand, reminding him, "Remember, you can't die."

John let out a mock sigh as he rose. "I know, I know. My ass is yours."

"And Canada's." Rodney gave the ass a fond swat. "You'd better get dressed. The honeymoon's over."

John leaned over to kiss Rodney. "I don't intend for this honeymoon to ever be over. And that's non-negotiable. 'kay?"

The smile on Rodney's face was all the answer he needed. In less than two minutes, he was back to regulation (if not American) Colonel. Well, Elizabeth said he'd get a Canadian patch after the celebration. But, for one last mission, he'd pretend. It was a relief knowing he wouldn't have to pretend any longer. About anything.

John turned at the door to look at Rodney. "Later, buddy."

"That's husband to you."

"Later ... husband."

Act Four

Giving John a head start, Rodney got dressed himself. He grabbed the still remaining supplies from Carson, determined that they would not go to waste. Certainly not the giggly item. He stuffed them into the picnic basket. At the last moment, he tossed in the two wedding bands made of tape. Rodney was not a sentimental man, he kept reminding himself, but he couldn't just pitch the two symbols of their marriage in the trash.

Rodney carried the picnic basket back to his quarters. There was no discreet way to get it back to the Mess. He shoved the condoms and other supplies under his bed and put the two rings in a desk drawer. Then he went and lost himself in his lab, ignoring Radek and the others. All he could think of was John's safe return.

Elizabeth sat in her office, trying not to fiddle with her hair. She wanted John, Teyla and Ronon back in the city. Unfortunately, the pressing mssion was to Nestur. If they hadn't gone there in the first place, this whole mess would not have happened. She certainly would have warned Major Lacroix against accepting Kavanagh as a member of his team.

She knew the return mission to Nestur was important, but couldn't wait for John and Rodney to be reunited. Publicly. And the party. For everyone. The city needed to have factions dissolved, differences forgotten. This was what she did. She fixed things. She needed to fix the city.

Her reveries were interrupted by a voice in her earpiece. The Daedalus was about a day away. And she couldn't pull the away team. She sighed. Couldn't she have one uncomplicated good day. Grimacing, she called Rodney on the radio and had to listen to a squeaked "What!" from her CSO. Well, this was his sister and he'd just have to handle the situation.

Less than two hours later, she was called to the Infirmary. Carson led her to the isolation room. Within it she found Rodney, with Jennifer trying to calm him down.

She got the bad news from Carson. "Significantly elevated b.p and rapid heart rate. We can't get him to calm down."

Rodney was whimpering at this point, having slumped against Jennifer's body. "Elizabeth, you can't make me see Jeannie. She'll wreck everything. One way or another, she'll make sure I'm not married and that John's career is ruined. And don't tell me she wouldn't go ahead and do it. I'd bet even all of us together would have a tough time against her."

Elizabeth knew she would be a hypocrite if she counselled Rodney to face his sister. Sometimes, subterfuge was a better solution. She turned to Carson. "Can Rodney be dead? No, not _really_ dead. It would just be a pretense until Colonel Sheppard returns. It would buy us enough time to dissuade Jeannie. After all, her brother can't marry anyone if he's deceased. And I know it's a harsh solution and a nasty trick to play on a family member, but I'm looking out for the welfare of _my_ people and, right now, Rodney and John are my most important consideration."

Rodney himself had become so intrigued by the subject ... well, they were talking about him, after all ... that he'd approached and begun to offer suggestions. "What about modifying a stasis chamber? Also, you were using the idea of a new pathogen. That's what you were yammering on the first time you got us down here. We still have time, enough for me to do the modifications. Then, Elizabeth announces that I'm dead ... oh, and really I think you should give me a place to lie in state where people can come to pay their respects. What! The smartest man in two galaxies dies and gets no mourners? Personally, I think you should use the Chair Room." Rodney crossed his arms in front of him with a determined look.

Elizabeth thought about the idea for not longer than a few seconds, then smiled. It was so appropriate for the solution of Rodney's problem to come from Rodney's brilliant but quirky brain. "Do it. Just let me know when it's time to announce the untimely and unfortunate passing of the great Dr. McKay."

Rodney nodded. He liked the sound of that.

Act Five

The news hit the city hard. Rodney McKay was dead.

It didn't help that Colonel Sheppard's team had not returned from Nestur. So, the two most integral components of the heart of the city were missing, one never to spin brilliant webs of fantastic equations again.

When the Daedalus finally arrived, Elizabeth had to school her features, as only she and the two doctors knew what the truth was. But she had to do a convincing job, so that Jeannie would eventually leave and Elizabeth could reunite John with Rodney and ... well, then, she'd probably have new problems to solve. Elizabeth would prevent Jeannie from taking Rodney's body back to Earth by showing her a copy of Rodney's burial wishes.

Jeannie came.  
Jeannie heard.  
Jeannie saw.  
Jeannie screamed.

Elizabeth had posted an honour guard outside the Chair Room, so that Jeannie could grieve in privacy. Rodney's idea of the modified statis chamber had been excellent, because it prevented anybody from touching the body and it allowed fresh air to circulate. Carson had also inserted an IV line attached to a hidden source of the life-sustaining fluid.

When Jeannie emerged from the Chair Room, the guards escorted her to Elizabeth's office. Jeannie stared at Elizabeth. "I'm staying."

Elizabeth was stunned. People didn't just go about telling her what they were going to do. Not in _her_ city. She had a better understanding of Rodney's panic attack. "How long?"

"Until Colonel Sheppard returns. I want to discuss the burial plans with him."

Elizabeth nearly sighed. She could feel a headache coming on. "Fine. I'll assign quarters for you."

"Oh, that's no problem. I'll just stay in Rodney's-"

Now Elizabeth was on firmer ground. "I'm sorry, but I can't permit that. Rodney's quarters were officially sealed upon his death. They'll be reopened for the proper disposition of his artifacts."

Jeannie sported a typical McKay frown. "Well, I guess I'll stay in guest quarters."

Even though Jeannie was now living in the city, she had not returned to the Chair Room, as far as Elizabeth knew. But many others were paying their respects. First discreetly, then in larger numbers. Elizabeth learned from the guards posted that civilians were mourning openly with military personnel. And something in her heart both broke and soared at the same time. Rodney's death had achieved a peace that even she hadn't been able to.

Elizabeth called an emergency senior staff meeting. Only Evan standing in for John, and Radek, the new head of the scientists. For the sake of maintaining subterfuge, neither Carson nor Jennifer were invited. One hour later, Elizabeth's firm voice rang out throughout the city.

> It has been brought to my attention that many of you have been paying your respects to the late, great Dr. Rodney McKay. His loss comes as a great shock to us all, civilian and military alike. I believe he would be touched to know that he meant so much to so many of you. In his memory, I am lifting both the curfew and the restrictions regarding working and mingling together. Please respect his memory by making this city a beacon of hope for the future. Weir, out.

Elizabeth couldn't help it. She _knew_ what the truth was, but even her voice had caught during the proclamation.

~::~

Elizabeth was sighing with relief. Finally. John had contacted her and said he'd be back some time during the night. Then perhaps things could really get back to normal. Elizabeth informed Carson and relayed the information to the gate technician on duty, stating that she was to be contacted immediately the team stepped back into the city and that he wasn't to breathe a word about Rodney's death.

Carson, likewise, informed the senior nurse on duty to wake him before he dragged a pillow into his office. If he wasn't around to tell John first, all hell would break loose.

It did.

The gate technician forgot and immediately offered his condolences to John who didn't know what was going on. He'd just spoken to Elizabeth a few hours ago. Certainly she would have mentioned it if something had gone wrong. Way wrong. When he checked in at the Infirmary, the nurse was so flustered that the instructions to wake a sleeping Carson, only a few feet away, were forgotten.

John ran the entire way to the Chair Room. There had not been a guard posted since the restrictions had been lifted. He skidded to an abrupt halt when he saw the still, dead body of his lover, his husband, his buddy. He wanted to smash through the lid ... to be able to touch Rodney just one more time. But Rodney wasn't there. He was gone into infinity.

Suddenly, John knew what he had to do. There was no point in living, not without Rodney. But he couldn't make this a selfish sacrifice. He turned, his mind made up.

When Elizabeth woke up, she looked fuzzily at her clock. There was something wrong. Surely, the Colonel's team had to have returned already. She tried to reach him on the radio but there was no response. She then tried Teyla and was shocked to hear that they had come through the gate four hours ago.

Teyla sounded sleepy. "Is there a problem, Elizabeth?"

"I hope not. Could you please communicate with Ronon, and then meet me outside the Chair Room?"

Teyla agreed quickly. No matter how strange a request, she knew Elizabeth would not have made it without good reason.

Elizabeth then called Carson who sounded as if he'd been sound asleep. "Carson, I think we're in trouble. The Colonel's team has been back for hours. Please meet us at the Chair Room. Bring your resuscitation equipment.

Carson was flying even before she finished speaking.

Five sombre people assembled within minutes at the Chair Room. When the door slid open, all of them were in shock. Rodney wasn't the only occupant. The Colonel's body was in the Chair. It was lit up, even though he didn't appear to be breathing.

Carson motioned to Jennifer. They had to get Rodney out of his statis unit first. Then they'd tackle the unforeseen problem of the Colonel. Jennifer released the locking mechanism. As the lid rose, Carson plunged a needle into Rodney's carotid artery. A minute later, Rodney floated back up to the surface. "Hey, I was having a good dream. I even got married." He grinned at them, not understanding why they were looking so uncomfortable.

Then Rodney glanced over at the chair and saw the person he'd missed for days. He struggled with the IV, yanking at it. "Get this out of me and help me out. Now!"

He turned to Elizabeth. "Is Jeannie still here?" When he saw her nod, he continued. "Go wake her up. She got me into this mess, she can help me fix it."

Carson looked bewildered. "How do ye expect your sister to help? We have to get John into the Infirmary, hook him up to proper life support."

"Sorry, Carson, but this has nothing to do with your voodoo medicine. If I know John – and I do – then he probably decided to give himself to Atlantis, the hussy, and she didn't even try to stop him. Why would she - with his gene on a platter?"

"Elizabeth, I need a couple of laptops. And coffee. Lots of coffee."

Elizabeth had just finished speaking to a now-awake Jeannie. She then woke up Radek – was this all she was good for tonight – and asked him to bring three laptops to the Chair Room and that, yes, it was an emergency.

When Jeannie stumbled in, she didn't know what to say or do. "You're alive?"

Rodney's answer was terse. "No thanks to you. Since you're here, you can help. You got us into this mess, after all."

Jeannie was on the verge of having an argument with her dead-not-dead brother but saw the scared expressions on the faces around her. "What do you need me to do?"

"Okay, I figure he's not dead yet because the Chair's still lit up. We need to construct a firewall and then extract every bit of him that doesn't belong in the city's code."

"That'll take hours."

His reply to his sister was terse. "So, don't waste any of it."

The hours passed. The brother and sister, Radek too, worked painstakingly to retrieve every thing that belonged to John. Elizabeth went back to her office. There was nothing she could do but be in the way. Teyla and Ronon had left when she did. She wouldn't be surprised if Ronon were punching something out, Teyla doing the same thing. Teyla didn't always throw meditation at a problem.

When they didn't think they could process another line of code, Rodney yelled, "I've got it!" When Radek and Jeannie lifted their bleary eyes, Rodney continued, "I just have to give the command to reverse the flow to each point of origin." There was no point in putting John back together and getting it wrong. Rodney wanted that Mensa-brain back in John's head. And all the other nice parts functioning as well.

Carson and Jennifer had been recalled and watched in awe as the Colonel's body seemed to reanimate in front of them. When his eyes flickered open, he was looking up into the eyes of his supposedly dead husband. "Hi. Is this heaven?"

Everybody breathed a huge sigh of relief. That lasted until Rodney took a breath and launched into a tirade. "What did I say about dying? You're not supposed to do it unless I say so." His voice softened. "I don't think I'll ever say so."

"Oh, Rodney, cm'ere." He dragged Rodney so that he was lying on top of his body and kissed him. Carson and Jennifer were already famiiliar with their overt expressions of affection, but Jeannie was scandalised and Radek just confused.

"What on Earth are you doing to my brother?"

Rodney turned his neck so that he could look at his sister. But he let John reply.

"He may be your brother, but he's _my_ husband; and, lady, we're not on Earth."

Jeannie shrieked the next two words. "What! How?"

Rodney grinned. "Long story. Short version. He's Canadian now and we're married. So, you, kid sister, can take that will and go home because I've satisfied your stupid requirement."

"But, but, Mer- ... Rodney. I just wanted you to be happy."

"No, you didn't. You just wanted me to be married. And, just for the record, I may not _be_ John Sheppard ... but I married the only one in two galaxies!" With that out of the way, Rodney went back to the very important task of kissing his husband.

Epilogue

Dr. Elizabeth Weir surveyed her domain with a calm confidence. Oh, she wasn't kidding anybody with that polite crap. It had been a long time since she'd radiated so much joy, so much confidence as the result of one of her diplomatic decisions. The city was lit up like a Christmas ornament. Every single pier had been decorated with a different theme. And everybody had contributed something. Elizabeth thought back to the ceremony that had been reenacted, actually a renewal of their full vows. As John would not have a Canadian Forces dress uniform until the next run of the Daedalus, he and Rodney had been married again in exquisitely tailored suits, courtesy of Nestur. Of course, they weren't suits in any Western Earth tradition, but that was what made them even more special for Elizabeth.

The rings had been commissioned from the gem world. Both rings were sapphire. Elizabeth wasn't surprised. She imagined that it would have been a simple decision on John's part: to have a reminder of Rodney's eyes with him at all times. For Rodney, it was probably having given John the freedom of the sky with no strings attached.

Elizabeth was so proud of them. They'd asked for no gifts other than rescheduling their shifts for one week, so that they could have a proper honeymoon. As Rodney had muttered, "And not one where I'm just dreaming in stasis."

Originally, Elizabeth had been worried that people would have resented her deception. But, when Rodney had explained that it was John's return and his control of the Chair that had found the cure to his death-like coma, no one questioned the medical inconsistencies. After all, this _was_ the Pegasus Galaxy.

She glanced around, wondering where her boys were. She finally spotted them on a couch in a secluded corner. Rodney had his feet in John's lap and was blissfully accepting a foot massage. She smiled. Her presence was no longer required. Now, if she could only find an energetic dance partner....

~::~

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own ANY of it, not the opera, ballet, play (lol), nor the Stargate franchise. I'm just smushing them all together and having way too much fun.
> 
> Word count: 11,019-11,020 (hmm, my two sources don't agree)


End file.
